Bound

Lady Fiora

Body dripping all over with well-earned sweat, Hector exited the training grounds with a refreshed feeling. An iron sword of exceptional quality hung at his side, clanking merrily against his armor. It had been but a month since he had started learning how to use a sword, and he was improving with every practice. He couldn't say that he was good yet, but at least he had the basics down.

Whistling a unrecognizable tune, he burst into his room and collapsed on top of his bed, laughing to himself. Soon, he would be able to beat Eliwood in-a son of one of the nobles, his closest friend-in a match. The red-haired youth had won (only two more duels than Hector; out of 31 matches, 15 he won, 13 he lost, and 3 tied) with that blasted rapier of his. Wouldn't it be a surprise when he found out that Hector could wield a sword! He could not wait to see that dumbstruck look on his face.

Burying his face into the pillow as he chuckled at the imagined scene, he rolled over so that he was on his stomach. And with every day, with every practice, he was getting closer and closer to his vision. Not that he wanted to humiliate Eliwood or anything-he was Hector's best friend, after all. He just wanted to prove him wrong. He was getting tired of his wise-guy look after a match, the face that said I-told-you-axemen-were-no-match-for-knights-like-me. Well, you're right, Eliwood. Until the axeman learns to use a sword, that is!

His fits of mad chuckles were interrupted by a timid cough at the door, and Hector looked up to see a frightened servant waiting. Clearing his throat and straightening up quickly as much dignity as he could muster at the moment, Hector looked her and said, "Yes?" Her eyes moved from his disheveled hair, to his dusty cloak, and then to his sweat-soaked clothing before she spoke.

"Her Majesty and His Majesty the King requests your presence in the throne room as soon as possible, she squeaked, so quietly that he almost missed her words.

He coughed again, trying to cover up his embarrassment at being caught acting so crudely. "Er…do you know what for?" he asked cautiously. It had been two and a half weeks since the last time he had been called to the Royal couple's presence, and he remembered it not being a very enjoyable experience. Come to think of it, they (namely his father) were probably still displeased with him and wanted to reprimand him again in private. Silence greeted his words, while the maid wringed her hands together nervously.

"So…you don't know what for?" he asked, and she started so horribly that he had to work hard to fight back an annoyed growl. It wasn't as if he was going to bite her head off or anything. Why were all the servants so afraid of him? He had never raised a hand against them, or use any sort of violence on them for that matter, yet they were all so terrified whenever he gave them orders, or just even passed them by. And on top of that, the word was going to spread like wildfire among the servants of the castle that the prince had gone insane. Great. Just what he needed. Even the servants whispering behind his back, as if it weren't enough that the nobles already did so. It's not that he really cared for what they said, but every time he saw the disapproving look on his father's face and the exasperation in his mother's eye he wished that he had not done the things to cause such things. But those moments faded away just as quickly as they came, and Hector would be right back where he started, which mostly consisted of him doing whatever he wanted to do.

"No, sir," she replied quickly. Perhaps a little too quick, but he was too preoccupied to notice.

"Fine, fine," he said grudgingly, waving her away. "Tell them I'll be right down. I just need to clean up a big…" She scurried off hastily before he finished his sentence. He blinked once, then twice, in surprise and annoyance, but soon let it go.

He yawned mightily, and covered his mouth with his hand as he did so. That reminded him how worn out he was from his exercise, but he had to get ready if he were to make a proper appearance to His and Her Majesties. He had to take a quick bath, and change into clean clothes but he was so tired.

"I'll just close my eyes and rest for a bit before I do so," Hector said to himself, laying down on the bed again. He would get up in five minutes and get wash up. Take a bath, then change…five…minutes…

But even before his head hit the pillow he was fast asleep.

There was a buzzing of a fly, and Hector tried to swat it (where ever it was), but his arms were too heavy. The buzzing grew louder and louder, and with a sleepy groan he waved his hands, but again they did not respond to him. Meanwhile, the buzzing had grown to actual words, which confused his blurred mind greatly.

"Your Highness! Your Highness!" the fly cried hysterically, and something shook him to consciousness. Hector's eyes flew open, and a frantic face came into focus. His first thought was—An oddly shaped talking fly…how peculiar. He quickly corrected himself as his brain became more aware. He was a servant that usually tended to his father.

"What…?" the prince said sleepily, attempting to sit upright. He was having a most wonderful about a sea of green before the fly, er, the servant came and woke him up. "What is it?"

"His Majesty and Her Majesty have been waiting in the throne room for forty-five minutes!" the servant cried, unable to mask the panic in his voice. Hector sprang up.

"What!" he said, his eyes wide. "Forty-five!" He should have been down at least twenty minutes ago!

"Blast!" he exclaimed, bolting from the bed. Normally, the servant would have gently corrected him, but they were in such a hurry that he did not bother to.

Hector fumbled while unclasping his dusty cloak, and then tried to put on a new one, but his hands kept missing so he threw it aside. Racing in front of the nearest body-length mirror, he discovered that he still had his practice armor on. With the servant's help he got it off in a few (but seemingly eternal) moments, and flung that to a random spot on the wall. Placing himself in front of the mirror again, he saw that his royal blue and brown clothes were extremely dusty, and he tried to brush it off in vain. He would have gone on as long as he could have, being stubborn as he was, but the servant's cries of "Hurry, Your Highness, hurry!" threw him off so badly that he gave up on that, too.

"This way, Your Highness!" the servant exclaimed as he bolted from the door, leading the way toward the throne room.

"I know where the blasted room is!" Hector replied snappily, feeling very disgusting indeed in his dirty training clothes. The two sprinted down the halls, the servant thinking of how mad His Majesty was going to be afterwards, and the prince sniffing himself and wondering how bad he smelled.

"Hey, what's so urgent that they wanted me to be there immediately—aargh!" he cried as he ran into the servant who made an abrupt stop and nearly crashed down onto the floor. "What's the big idea!" he said, regaining his composure.

"Shh," the servant said softly, bringing a finger to his lips. He indicated toward the door, which was but a few yards away. "Quietly." Hector nodded grudgingly, biting back a cross comment. It wasn't the servant's fault.

Upon reaching the closed doors of the throne room, the servant made an eye contact with him and signaled for him to wait until he had announced the prince's arrival. Hector nodded, to show that he understood.

Clearing his throat the servant pushed them open, which made a low-pitched creak as they did. Elegantly he stepped onto the lush red carpet that led to the throne room and bowed. "His Highness Prince Hector has arrived." Hector couldn't see anything save for the back of the servant, because the doors blocked his vision. He didn't need to see, though. He could guess what kind of faces that his parents had put on… Despite himself, he gave a nervous shudder.

There came a muted voice, and the servant whispered to him, "Your Highness. They are waiting." With a gentle gulp Hector entered the room.

As expected, the King and Queen did not look happy. But something else in their expressions caught his eyes…glee?

"Glad that you finally made it," his father said pleasantly, and Hector immediately tensed, knowing that he was going to blow up anytime soon. But it didn't come. "We have a surprise for you."

"What…?" Hector started to ask dumbly, but a figure stepping into his vision cut him off. She had a willowy figure, and she looked perhaps seventeen or so. Her shoulder-length blue-green hair was elegantly tied back, and her intelligent azure eyes regarded him serenely.

Lady Fiora.

"What…what a…nice surprise," Hector stammered, catching himself just in time. He turned to his parents, trembling anger in his voice now that he had gotten over his initial shock. "I thought the visit was at least a month away…"

"Did I say that?" his father replied airily, triumphantly. "All I stated was merely that she was going to visit soon." An awkward silence fell between all of them, but Lady Fiora saved them all just before Hector popped a vein.

"I am called Fiora, milord," she said in her gentle voice, nimbly curtseying at him. "It is a pleasure to meet you in person."

"Likewise," Hector said, bowing clumsily. His worst nightmare was unfolding before his very eyes.

"And this is my servant, Lyn," she spoke again, indicating at a young woman next to her. "She will be serving quite a few residents of Castle Ostia, so that she may get used to them. Please regard her with kindness should she get lost, or does not do her job right…" She went on about the girl, but Hector didn't listen. He was too busy fantasizing how horrendous his life was about to become.

Author's Note: A bit rushed, but I had to get Lyn in.

Lao Who Mai: Whoa. Thank you. I hope I didn't degrade Hector too much…

Wandering Cat: I'm surprised that you're reading this, since Hector is the main character of this story. Anyway, thank you for your review!

Reviews and constructive critisms are always appreciated!